This time? This time I was in control. My hands now making swift work of his joggers, pushing them down in one go, taking his briefs with them as I smoothed my palms over his back. His buttocks. Those rounded muscles flexing under my grip.
My sudden laugh matching his small giggle was everything I needed.
“On the bed, arsehole,” I demanded, giving him a little shove.
He went, so easily. Kicking those legs free of clothing, leaving him naked. Apart from his socks, as I crawled on top of him.
This time? I was still dressed. His hand yanked at my tie.
In a way? It made me brave. Like I was in control of something. This small hurricane of my life that just wouldn’t stop raging. My lips settled back on his as I let his skin clamp between my teeth. Tugged at him as he moaned. His head leant up as I leant back.
I wanted to look at him. Inspect my masterpiece, the one I was so headily creating. That face where every kiss left a mark. Where I sucked my mouth onto his neck. His cheeks. Bit down on his shoulder. I wanted him, everywhere.
“Hot,” he huffed out. “You’re so hot.”
I wanted to laugh in his face, but perhaps I was learning the ropes here. The way he tugged at my tie. Let it twirl around his hand before yanking me closer.
Then he just stared at me, those eyes almost black in the dusky light, my nose pressed hard against his. Harder than comfortable, but I relished it, wanting to sink right through his bones. Those hips on him moving underneath me. Just rotating in a little choreography that apparently I could follow. My dick thickening in my pants with every little jerk. Every roll. His grip on my tie firm as he held me in place. Then his hand wouldn’t stop moving. Leading me by the leash to where he wanted my mouth. Down his bare chest. My tongue trying to reach his skin as my forehead dragged down his stomach. My legs bending and crawling until I found a comfortable position.
The gasps coming out of his mouth were more of a turn on than I could have imagined, and I had, imagined them. Over and over in every scenario imaginable. How they would sound. How I would coax them out of him. Tease him into submission, where I could finally own him.
Like I did now. Because I felt inflated to the point of bursting. High on every emotion this was.
Him on the bed, naked.
Me on top.
And his gorgeous cock right there on display. For me. Just for me.
I’d done that. Made him become all that he was, laid out for me on my sheets. His eyes on me. His chest all flushed, his hands now gripping atthe duvet on one side, clawing at the bare mattress on the other. Like the perfect scene pulled straight out of my extensive spank bank. All featuring him as the main attraction, where I was just sat here on my hunches inspecting my small kingdom.
I felt high. Like I didn’t need any of that anymore because the only scene I would ever remember would be this. Him looking at me with that desperation in his eyes. Me trying to rip my pants open so I could free my dick. Clothing pushed down around my thighs. Locked in this position, where I no doubt would rip my trousers and make an absolute mess of everything. But then?
I had the script down. Every little scene perfected in my mind.
I raised my hand to my mouth, pooling spit in my mouth.
Dirty, yes. But then I was, and the flush on his face told me I was doing exactly what he wanted me to. How I knew that? I had no idea, but I spat in my hand and then tightened a fist right in front of him. Opened slowly to the sound of his breath hitching.
“Do it,” he panted.
Holding myself up with one hand, I grabbed my cock, smearing my spit all over myself.
“Lube is a thing,” he hissed out.
“Not got any, have we?” I replied, not taking my eyes off him.
He raised his hand and copied me. Spitting in his hand, then grabbing himself. The two of us leaving far too much space between our bodies but none between our cocks.
My head was swimming. My fingers tangling in his as we worked it out. Both our wet hands around our lengths, finding a rhythm as we let ourselves go. Jerky, rough movements, far too fast. No holding back as he whined and my mouth let out vowels in combinations I couldn’t explain. Heady breaths mixed with things I wanted to say but never would.
Don’t ever leave me.
Because I didn’t think I could make it if you stopped coming for me.
It was frantic and rushed, and my mouth met his as I lost my balance, now leaning awkwardly on an elbow as we both swung to the side. Our hands. Our cocks. The slip and slide as we breathed into each other’s mouths.
When I came, it was…blinding. Just white at the edge of my vision, my glasses having fallen off my nose.
